


Normal People Don't

by FakePlastikTrees



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M, beth gets her groove back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 20:13:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14196855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakePlastikTrees/pseuds/FakePlastikTrees
Summary: After Beth spills bags of cash on Dean, she decides she's going to go out instead and meets up with Rio.





	Normal People Don't

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to write them for a while and I think it's time.

She slams the door when she walks into her bedroom, just in case Dean is still wondering if she’s done with him for the night. She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror on her way to the bathroom, hand already on the back zipper of her dress, and she stops.

 

She looks good, what’s more, she _feels_ good. She’s a little pissed, but she feels great. Invigorated, one might say.

 

She can’t waste all this energy on Dean. She turns to one side, then the other, runs a hand through her hair and decides the dress cannot be wasted on him either.

 

Dean is still worriedly holding armfuls of cash when she breezes past him and says, “I’m going out. Watch the kids.”

 

She grabs her keys off the counter and barely catches a weak, “Kay” before she shuts the door behind her.

 

In her car, she texts Rio: _Playground in 20 minutes_. It’s not a request and she hopes it comes across as such—she also hopes he shows. She knows he won’t reply either way, so she’s got to hope she’s not wrong in reading him.

 

She stops at a 7 Eleven on a whim and buys a bottle of Hennessy, setting her back a few minutes. Normally, she was sure to be there before him, but this isn’t about business and she wants him to know that, so she takes the long way.

 

When she gets there, he’s leaning against the trunk of his car, smoking what she soon finds is not a cigarette, and there’s something different. It stops her dead in her tracks as soon as she rounds the mini van.

 

“Look at you!” She exclaims, motioning at him with the bottle.

 

He smiles at her, his eyes small when he takes a drag.

 

He’s wearing a suit—black--black button down and nice shoes. His tattoos are peaking out of the fancy getup and damn it, he looks good.

 

“Look at _you_ ,” he counters as he pushes his weight off the car, his yes shamelessly roaming her body the way they often do.

 

This time she doesn’t pretend to not see it.

 

“Were you at a party?” She asks, moving toward him, her shoes making a pleasant, crunchy tap-tap with every step until she reaches his side.

 

“Something like that,” he replies and surprises her by offering her his joint.

 

She hesitates a moment, but takes it, enjoying the way Rio’s brow quirks in amusement.

 

“Rio, the great conversationalist,” she muses and then takes a drag from the joint, a small one. She hasn’t smoked weed since high school and she’s not about to embarrass herself now. She exhales, and there’s a tickle in her throat, but it’s quickly gone.

 

She hands the joint back and watches as he flicks his tongue to his thumb and index finger before he puts out the joint and sticks it in his pocket. She breathes in slowly; the sight of his tongue takes a while to leave her mind.

 

“We celebrating?” He points at the bottle in her hand.

 

“Oh,” she lifts it, twists it open and nods, “yeah, something like that.”

 

“What are we celebrating?”

 

She tilts her head, and squints at him, “Mmm, you’re the vaguest human on the planet, but I’m supposed to have a reason? Now, how’s that fair?” She takes a long swig, and it goes down smoothly. After drinks with the girls, the Hennessy tips her just this side of drunk and it feels good.

 

“Touché,” he retorts, taking the bottle from her and drinking a swig of his own.

 

They look at each other for a long time, playful gazes meeting, unwavering, the sound of silence adding to the growing tension between them.

 

“So,” he finally says before briefly bending over to place the bottle on the ground, “if we’re not going to talk, and there’s no drop-off, what am I doing here?”

 

She takes one step toward him and cradles the back of his neck as she presses her body to his and kisses him. He responds immediately, slanting his mouth against hers in a power move that is really unfair because Beth is quickly distracted by his tongue and the taste of alcohol and marijuana that normally would turn her off immediately, but not right now. She exhales sharply through her nose as his hands slide down her backside and then laughs a little against his lips when he lifts her onto the car.

 

She’s thoroughly enjoying his hands on her breasts when she recalls the security cameras she herself rallied for and suddenly tears her lips from his.

 

“Wait,” she breathes. His lips are swollen and his eyes are dilated, and Beth isn’t sure if it’s her and this or if it’s the weed and whatever other drugs he might have been enjoying wherever he was before she requested his presence, but it makes her wet nonetheless. “The seats in my car fold down.”

 

“The mom car?” He asks, and she laughs as she hops off the car.

 

“Yes, the mom car.”

 

Moments later, Rio’s hands are sliding their way up her dress as she straddles him, up on her knees while she undoes his belt and pants.

 

She doesn’t stop to think about the fact that the only man she’s ever had sex with is Dean, or that she hasn’t had sex in who knows how long, though the thoughts do drift by, threatening to ruin this for her, but they disappear for good the moment she sinks down onto him.

 

She sighs and stills, her lips hovering centimeters from his before she begins to move slowly, her hips finding a rhythm with his, though she gets the feeling he’s waiting on her. If possible, it gets her going even more.

 

Rio kisses her like he’s drowning and she’s his only source of oxygen. He holds the back of her head, hand fisting in her hair as he trails his lips down the side of her neck, stopping to push at the neck of her dress to leave a bite that makes her rock a little harder against him.

 

It does occur to Beth that they are both technically still fully dress save for some careful maneuvering, but she guesses he doesn’t mind much. Maybe next time they’ll take the time to find a bed. She hopes there is a next time.

 

Good _god_ , she hopes there’s a next time, because the way he circles her clit and finds a really sensitive spot right behind her ear makes her entire body tremble and she really bears down against her orgasm, which he chases soon thereafter and he’s got an arm tightly around her waist to keep her still against him.

 

She can’t speak for a while, so she kisses him, slowly, languidly until she can feel her limbs again and she crawls off his lap, shooting him one breathless grin before reaching over the console for a tissue to clean herself up while he rids himself of the condom he had pulled out of his back pocket earlier.

 

By the time she is able to talk, and has caught her breath, they’ve cleaned up and climbed out of the van in satiated silence.

 

She walks around the car and meets him where she first kissed him tonight. He’s holding the bottle they left outside.

 

“Next time let’s try a bed, yeah?” He says, handing her the Hennessy. “Not that quickies in the mom car aren’t fun.”

 

“Yep,” she nods, suddenly feeling bashful, maybe even blushing a little. “Bed sounds good. Thanks for helping me blow off some steam.”

 

He smiles, twirling his key ring around his finger. “Any time.”

 

He doesn’t say it, and she doesn’t comment on it, but he waits for her to get back in her car, and watches her drive off. She can see him the rearview mirror and she smiles, wondering how long she can possibly wait for the next time. She can’t imagine very long.


End file.
